


Here

by BabylonsFall



Category: Leverage
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Movie Quoting as Flirting, Multi, mainly Alec Hardison/Eliot Spencer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-20
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:55:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27641030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabylonsFall/pseuds/BabylonsFall
Summary: Eliot gets hurt, quotes a movie, and apologizes. Kinda.
Relationships: Alec Hardison/Eliot Spencer, Alec Hardison/Parker/Eliot Spencer
Comments: 12
Kudos: 115





	Here

**Author's Note:**

> Look. _Look_.
> 
> I don't know what this is either. I was watching Indiana Jones and this happened.
> 
> Enjoy!

"Would you stop moving already?" All that earned him was a look that would've had any decent hitter worth their salt running for the hills and waving goodbye to their contract.

Good thing Hardison had the sense his Nana gave him, and not whatever messed up crap passed for a hitter's 'good' sense.

"Glare all you want, E. Nurse Gail ain't here - was she even a nurse? Huh, really? Cool - so you got me. That's what happens when you run into burning warehouses with no warning."

"For the last time, it was _not_ on fire-"

"It was when Mr. Evil CEO of the Week blew it up."

"That was after-"

Hardison waved his hand dismissively, as he had each time Eliot had tried to argue the point in the last hour. “Yeah, yeah, after you ran in, _after_ he _said_ he was going to detonate.” It was his turn to level a glare at the hitter, and Eliot, at least, looked a little repentant. For a second.

“That blast barely took out a wall-”

“The one you were standing in front of.” Hardison interjected, even as he continued to dab lightly at another deep scrape he’d found with antiseptic.

“It _barely_ took out a wall, and I got to the office before he could fuck anything else up.”

Which, fair. If their current target had been any more competent, he might’ve actually succeeded at burning the evidence they needed. As it was though, all he’d really managed to do was bring a wall down on Eliot, thereby royally pissing him off and...no, that was about it.

They’d passed the file off to McSweeten with a pretty bow - or as good as - and then hightailed it back to the pub before Eliot could go on an actual warpath. One would think having metal sheeting, rebar, and drywall dropped on oneself would slow most people down. But, it wasn’t until both him and Parker had hauled the man back to their apartment, back to the safety of their home, that Eliot even seemed to realize he _had_ been hurt.

Which is when he’d started whining.

Hardison would not dignify his petulant moaning with any other word. It had started as soon as Hardison had sat his ass down after a quick shower to take a look at all the new scrapes and cuts and bruises, and hadn’t let up since.

“Not the point,” is all Hardison said as he moved onto the next cut - this one deep enough that it had started bleeding sluggishly again with all the moving Eliot was doing.

Eliot sighed, hard, through his nose, like he did when he was annoyed, but too tired to actually do much about it. “Then what _is_ the point?”

And Hardison paused then, hand pressing a gauze to Eliot’s arm before he could wrap it.

“The _point_ , Eliot, is that we didn’t see that it was just a wall.” Hardison offers after a long moment of weighing his words - weighing how this could go. Eliot had been fired up since they’d gotten back, only just putting up with Hardison mother-henning him. Parker had taken one look at that mess, rolled her eyes, and gone to clean up the mess with McSweeten. She’d been nearly vibrating out of her skin, and Hardison couldn’t blame her one bit, because he kind of felt like that too.

They hadn’t seen that it was just a wall. All they’d heard was a deep rumbling blast as the building shook and smoke started pouring out. They hadn’t seen that Eliot had gotten right back up and kept running. All they’d heard was static over the earpiece.

The silence that answers him tells him Eliot finally, _finally_ , gets it.

Hardison lets the silence linger as he moves on to the next scrape, this one blooming an ugly blue-purple that’s almost black. It’s not...joy Hardison feels, when Eliot hisses as he pokes at it. That would be mean. But it is _something_ , because it means Eliot’s here, and Hardison’s mad that for a second Eliot, even by accident, made them think that he wasn’t. And, quite frankly, Eliot could deal with it.

“Could you at least try to be gentle? I’ve seen the way you handle that damn computer, I know it’s possible.” Eliot mutters after another hiss, absolutely no heat behind it. If anything, it sounds more like something to break the silence, rather than picking up his tirade from earlier.

“I am being gentle. You just got turned into a punching bag.” Hardison shoots back, letting the fragile cut of his spine relax a little bit.

“Let me rephrase - everything fucking hurts, stop poking.” Eliot snaps, and Hardison rolls his eyes but does ease off a touch. Eliot actually admitting he’s in pain is an olive branch he recognizes from way too long spent with this man, and he’s in no mood to smack it away.

“You bleeding anywhere else?” Hardison asks as he leans back to get a look. Eliot shrugs a shoulder, wincing as it tugs at the bruises littering his ribs.

“Nah, think you got ‘em all, Nurse Alec.” And the grin he gives is cheeky, even if his eyes are shiny with pain and exhaustion. Hardison snorts at him, but grins back, standing and offering a hand to haul him up off the edge of the bathtub. Eliot lets him, for a wonder, and even lets Hardison lead him to their bedroom without so much as a grumble - which tells him all he needs to know about how much that pain is actually setting in now.

Hardison tries to help Eliot onto the bed, but gets shooed away. “Enough with the poking and prodding,” Eliot says, wincing as he sinks down to sit, “I just want to get some sleep.”

“Then tell me you’re okay.” Hardison says, not really thinking about it before it’s out of his mouth. But, now that it is, he really, really needs to hear it.

Eliot’s quiet for a long moment, watching him with an expression Hardison can’t read. “...Like I said, everything hurts. But I’m here, and I’m okay.”

And Hardison has to break the somber atmosphere before he vibrates out of his skin. “You keep saying that. You sure about it?”

There’s a crinkle around the deep set of Eliot’s eyes that tells Hardison he’s both being humored, and laughed at, in equal measures. “I think the injured are allowed to exaggerate.”

Hardison snorts, dropping down carefully beside him on the bed, “Oh really? So then, where doesn’t it hurt? I want to know where to elbow you in my sleep later tonight. Payback and all that.”

“Don’t even joke - you’re elbows are like glass and you know it.” Eliot says with an exaggerated shudder. Though, to be honest, he didn’t even _need_ to exaggerate, and both him and Hardison knew it. Both Hardison and Parker were lanky, tangly sleepers, and Eliot had learned to live with it by now, no matter how much he grumbled. “But,” and he tilts his head, eyeing Hardison with another look he can’t quite place, “here.” And he raises his arm long enough to point at his elbow.

Hardison raises an eyebrow, “Oh? How about here?” he asks, even as he reaches over to brush a thumb over Eliot’s temple, some small part of him - deep, deep, deep down, where he’s still not entirely sure how he got both Parker and Eliot for himself - thrilling when Eliot leans into it.

“Mm...that’s not too bad.” Eliot mutters around a yawn. It’s far more endearing than it should be.

“Anywhere else?”

Eliot is quiet for a long moment, acting like he’s thinking about it, before he raises his hand to tap at his lips with a grin.

And Hardison _can’t_ with this man; he has to lean over to press a kiss to his lips, grinning almost too wide for it to work. It’s gentle, and soft - little more than a sweet slide of skin, a press of breath - and over way too quickly.

“Did you just try to seduce me by quoting Indiana Jones?”

“Mm...nope. I tried to make you smile by quoting Indiana Jones. And it worked.” And Eliot looks so damn proud of himself that Hardison has to kiss him again, feeling that last bit of tension he didn’t even know he was holding melt out of him.

They were here, and they were okay.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are loved and appreciated! 💛


End file.
